


Bad Times Are Tough...

by impish_nature



Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I DONT MAKE THE RULES, mary the ultimate mum friend, post-75, sammy needs all the hugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-15 04:06:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15404598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impish_nature/pseuds/impish_nature
Summary: Mary's got some new kids to look after.





	Bad Times Are Tough...

Mary never did manage to go to sleep that night.

She said her piece to a willing and agreeing audience, left the radio on whilst she got ready for bed just like she told them she had to do. She hoped and prayed that Sammy had heard her, that he'd heard them all, and would soon realise that they needed him, that they cared for him and wanted him there with them- and maybe, realise that he needed them just as much. She kept up the optimism in her heart, that he would turn his car around from whatever highway he was driving on out of town and come back to them, finally ready to accept their help. Held on to the image, that she'd go out to town the following day and find him back where he should be, with Ben glued to his side and positively beaming with the accomplishment. She could imagine him shouting it from the rooftops, ignoring the fact that the radio show was meant to have other shows on and staying up all night and all morning, just to make sure that the world knew that they had succeeded and Sammy was staying.

...She could hope, at the very least. She knew she shouldn't. Knew that getting her hopes up was probably the worst thing to do, but- it was the kind of hope she instilled in her kids whenever she could because it wasn't time for them to grow up and face whatever hardships the world had to throw at them yet- it just hadn't felt right to try and stop them hoping that their Dad could make it home and in the end they had been right to hope, she had been right to hope- and honestly, that kind of thinking was hard to crack once it became a habit.

Hope had kept her strong, kept her resolved, along with her family and friends support.

And hope would get them through this, she was sure of it.

Sammy had been there for them throughout all of their troubles, he needed to let them in to help with his.

She could only hope that tonight's efforts were conveying that to him as they spoke.

Otherwise, if he didn't... she had no idea where he would end up. She had no idea what on Earth he was thinking, leaving his friends- his  _family_ \- when he needed them the most. Running back to whatever big city he had come from, even though it was obvious he hadn't cared about leaving it three years ago, not with Jack gone. What was left for him there? Another empty apartment? Another life he could try and build now that they'd found out what had happened? Was it that horrifying to let them in? Was it so terrifying that they all knew what he'd been going through? No one was judging him, or whatever other horrible thoughts that were running through his head that they might now think of him. Or at least no one that mattered, and she hoped Sammy knew that, her thoughts souring on a certain someone who she had yet to lay eyes on since all of this had begun. If it wasn't for Tim holding her back she'd had half a mind to seeking him out and unleash hell on him, herself. A maternal instinct to protect had beat in time with her pulse and risen up her throat like vicious bile all those months ago when everything had come to a head, when that vile excuse for a man had taken things out of Sammy's hands.

At least Troy and Herschel had managed to give them some justice, even if she'd lie to the sun and back before she ever admitted to knowing any details about that in the first place.

Even months later, her hands still shook with anger, clenching tight around the toy she'd almost tripped over as she quickly tidied, procrastinating sleep in favour of listening just a few minutes longer, finding any excuse in that moment. As long as it was productive and helped her the next day, who could judge her? She took a steadying breath as she put it away though, tried to force the venom from her veins before it could truly consume her and she'd never find it in her to sleep. She'd rehearsed her spitting out to the man a number of times already, now complete with a number of 'and another thing!' additions, just in case she came across Frickard in the street.

Frustratingly, he seemed to have learnt to hide from her after her last choice words about him and Emily.

Regardless, the middle of the night was not the best time to think about it, even if it felt like it was. And in all honestly, as much as the remembrance of that fateful night always brought along that wave of anger, it was nothing like the wave of sorrow that came with it.

Sammy had thought it was just him and Ben, he hadn't realised...

She'd had half a mind to turn off the broadcast that night, her hand flitting towards the radio only to flinch back, her heart screaming out to hug him. She couldn't help him if she didn't know, that was all that had stopped her, though it felt like a betrayal all at once to hear it. And her heart went out to him, her eyes closing as she bit at her lip trying her best not to react too viscerally as she listened to him. All that time Tim had been missing, Sammy had been searching for someone else too, had lost someone else. He sat and listened and helped them. Helped her, helped Ben as they lost people, even whilst he himself went through the same pain over and over again. All that time and  _still_  he hadn't had his resolution.

No wonder he was finding it hard to believe he'd ever get a happy ending, or that there was any point in staying any longer.

Mary shook her head, trying to dispel the negative doubts from where they were trying to knock down the bridge of hope that she had carefully built. Her fists tightened once more as she focused once more on Ben at the Auditorium, listened to him and his guests speak earnestly about Sammy and what he meant to them.

And once again willed with every fibre of her being that somewhere out there Sammy was hearing them too.

They were all there for him, right in front of him, waiting with open arms for him to let them in, to just give them the all clear to rush to his side just like he had for them. Yet for some reason that she couldn't fathom, he refused. It wasn't about whether or not they could get Jack back, or even if they believed him, it was the fact that he wouldn't let them help him through this tough time at all that she couldn't wrap her head around. He wouldn't let them in, wouldn't let them help and it pained her more than anything that they couldn't figure out why and hadn't been able to resolve the issue before it had even truly began.

She sighed, biting at her lip as the doubts kept creeping in. They could only do so much, Sammy had to make some of the decisions all on his own, much as they might try and force his hand. And as much as she wanted to stay and listen to more, she knew, deep down, that she would regret it in the morning when she'd had yet another sleepless night and two hyperactive, lovable children to keep track of.

And just as she'd finally caved into the thoughts of sleep, all hell had broken loose.

The radio beside her crackled back to life, loud and jarring in the night air. The steady hum of conversation that it had been before, of well wishes and pleas, broke down quickly into something far far worse, an escalating flood of adrenaline and nerves somehow soaking through the speakers to cascade into the room around her.

This wasn't how they were supposed to hear from Sammy.

Not like this.

Not ever.

It had been a blow to the gut, a solid punch to the system as the world shifted off balance even further than it already had. All her hopes were reduced to rubble, broken down piece by piece, until that familiar awful feeling of falling found her once more. The world crashed down around her ears and left them ringing in a tinny whine that the sound of the radio just barely made it through along with her own loud whistling breaths. She could count the moments like it on one hand, that unceremonious swoop of fear and adrenaline that she recognised but could do nothing about, and even with that knowledge she felt like it was still far too many moments for one person to handle. First Tim. Then Emily. Then finding out the Tim that had returned hadn't been real at all and now...

Any tiredness, any exhaustion or thoughts of what the next day held, were quickly forgotten as Ben began to panic, as the confusion and fear settled into her core and his voice pulled her back out of her thoughts and into the world. Nothing else mattered, as everything that was being said crackled loudly around her and stuck like tar to her heart.

There was a hitch to her breath as Sammy spoke, a lurching, agonising jolt in her stomach as she realised what he had done, what he had always planned to do, and she felt sick to her stomach that they hadn't  _seen_.

Of course he hadn't been running back to his old life. She'd answered that herself countless times in all her internal questioning- what was there for him now?

Jack wasn't there.

But all of that agonising realisation was quickly crushed by fear. That dreadful sickening, sinking feeling, mingling with all the other nauseous emotions, making itself known as she heard a familiar sound through the radio. One that haunted her nightmares, threatening to snatch her Tim away from her once more.

The rainbow light had returned, desperately willing to snatch another person from their lives.

It had taken her Tim, it had taken Emily and now, just when Sammy had started to sound like he was ready to open up to them, had started to sound like maybe, just maybe he wanted to stay with them and would if he could-

It was going to take him too.

Mary found herself leaning in as close to the radio as she could, itching to somehow speak through it, yearning to help and fix it all and yet unable to, sat so far away from where everything was happening.

She cursed low under her breath, the words spat out like acidic ice in a way she never would if the kids were around to hear. Why hadn't she gone to the auditorium like she'd debated? Tim had told her to go, that he would be fine with the kids for the night, but she hadn't gone- and the regret would haunt her, she knew it would.

It might not have helped Sammy, but she might have been able to help Ben, look after one of them through all this, instead of being sat in the dark, completely alone on the wrong side of town.

And it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that this boy- this boy that had lost so much, that had done so much for them since he had been there wouldn't have the choice to stay even if he wanted to. The one who had stepped in whenever she needed him to, had done everything in his power to make sure she and her kids were OK whenever she was close to breaking point. He had always seemed to know exactly when she needed him, seemed to hear it in her tone or in her words, she wasn't sure, but whatever it was, he had known and dropped everything to get to them. This guy, who had been fighting so many of his own demons, who had known exactly what she was going through, probably saw himself in her at times, but kept it all hidden in favour of helping her, helping Ben- helping those who had lost people even when his own heart was breaking for the exact same reasons.

It wasn't fair that he had kept it all to himself, had let himself hurt so deeply without letting them in to help him. Probably from some misguided theory that they had enough on their plates to contend with, without him adding to it, even though he let their pain pile on top of his without any fuss or thought for his own well being. It wasn't fair that he had risked everything alone and not even cared what would happen to him, that he had been struggling all this time under the weight of it all and they'd never even seen until the secrets were wrenched from his grasp and forced out of him. The fact that he hadn't been given that choice, that it had been taken from him another wrong doing the world had done to him that she felt the need to fight whatever being felt like playing with him so.

It wasn't fair that after all that, after everything he had been through, they weren't even going to get the chance to take care of him now that everything was truly laid bare. That he might finally be willing to give them the chance to do just that and the lights were going to take him away from them, just when there was a chance he might actually stay of his own accord.

It wasn't fair that they were going to lose him too. He'd been lost for so long, so so long, and now that he was finally ready to drag himself out of that dark maze of sorrow towards the light, towards them- the door was slamming shut on him. After he had lost so much already, he was going to lose all of them in one fell swoop and there was nothing any of them could do about it.

Absolutely nothing.

She had felt helpless before, but it never got any easier. Stuck in the dark, listening to the chaos unfold and desperately willing the world for once, just once to be  _fair_. Willing it to just once let them have a happy ending without all the misfortune in between. They had fought so hard and for so long already, surely just this once they deserved the planets to align and for the world to right itself without any more tears and anguish.

And even through it all, as she vibrated, shaking where she sat with all that pent up energy- through the heartbreak, the fear, the overwhelming doubts- there was a gnawing desperate determination. That buzz of adrenaline that there had to be  _something_  they could do, the resolve that pushed the helplessness aside and told her that they had brought people back before, that they could bring him back, that nothing would stop them.

They would move heaven and earth because how dare it.  _How dare_  the world try to snatch him away from them.

And even then, as if he knew what they were all thinking, Sammy was telling them not to get involved, not this time. Telling them not to look for him as if that was ever an option. Telling Ben to leave King Falls and live far away from all of this, knowing full well that he was the person he most had to convince of the fact even though, he never would be able to no matter what he said. And she was sure he knew that deep down, and yet still he had to try, his desperation sending a pang of sympathy and hurt through her core.

He sat there and said his goodbyes to them.

Told them he was  _sorry_.

She didn't want his  _damn_  apologies, she wanted him there with them, right where he  _deserved_  to be, no matter what he himself thought on the subject.

And if she had her way in the near future, she'd be making sure he changed his tune on that particular argument as well, thank you very much.

But still she sat, biting at her nails as the broadcast continued, leg jostling up and down in a fit of movement she couldn't quench, unable to do anything but wait until it was all over to really be of any use at all. Waited and waded through those aching minutes that felt like stretching hours as the story that no one could stop unfolded before them.

For just a fluttering moment she'd been relieved.

The lights had left Sammy be! He was going to be OK! They weren't taking him. But then that hadn't been the end of it. Sammy continued to speak, voice low and shocked, downright filled with dread, and she'd seen the second light flickering through her window. Had known exactly what was happening, even if the how it was happening was difficult to grasp, her heart thudding painfully, as it lodged in her throat. Either way whoever had done it, whoever had taken out the rainbow lights in their hour of need, had her blessing and her gratitude, because if she could have done it herself she would have in a heartbeat.

The abrupt end to the broadcast made her startle though, jump to attention as the knowledge she had been clinging to quickly abandoned her in a cacophony of static. There was no telling now, no reassurance and no clarity. She found herself turning the TV on to the local news channels with shaking hands, flicking through each one, over and over until she had all the information she needed, until she was sure that everyone, absolutely everyone, was safe. That no one had been taken from them that night, by an unknown void  _or_  by those blasted rainbow lights.

It was exhausting, the range of emotions that had flitted through her system that night. Each time she thought they were safe, a new obstacle had presented itself, anxiety and adrenaline fizzling through to jump start her nervous system again and keep her from resting until the latest danger had passed.

By the end of it, she wasn't even sure if she could drum any more emotions up through the buzzing in her skull.

She needed to sleep, the kids would be up soon.

But even then she couldn't, not with all the reassurances the world could give her in that moment. There was relief, of course, a flood of it that dampened a lot of the fizzling vibrations that had run rampant through her system. But it was as if she was feeling it through a filter, a cold, hole in her chest that drained it away before she could feel its benefits entirely and finally fall asleep.

Because they may have won that night's battle, but she could tell the next one would be even harder.

Sammy was still with them.

Now they just needed to figure out how best to keep it that way.

 

* * *

 

It was a few days after the events of that night, before Mary could finally make it over to see Sammy and Ben.

Not for lack of trying that is, but with the radio station out of commission and what she could only hope and assume was an outpouring of support and affection for their local radio hosts- getting hold of them by phone didn't seem to be an accessible course of action, the line always engaged whenever she tried.

It was either that, or that everything about the entire situation they had found themselves in had overwhelmed them both to the point of switching off from the outside world for awhile. Another logical option really, if she let herself think about it. Though, it was also one that she had taken to steadfastly ignoring being so by the time she found herself outside Ben's door, in the middle of the day.

If they wouldn't come to her, or answer her calls, it was the only option she really had. And she  _had_ left it as long as she could. She knew it mustn't be easy for them but she'd be damned if Sammy tried to hide away from the world again, hide from all the people wanting to help him through.

She didn't want to spook him, she just needed to know that he was at least letting someone in. She needed to see for herself that he was at least letting Ben in through the barrier, letting someone pick him back up and dust him off and let him know that they were always there for him, no matter what.

She needed to make sure he knew, he wasn't the only one there for him. That they were all there, and would be until he was ready to open up to them. And if he wasn't ready yet, that was OK, but if he ever got to that bad place again, she needed him to know that he had people to talk to before he went out on his own to 'solve' these problems because dealing with these things on your own never ended well.

And so here she was, on Ben's doorstep, with a determined glint in her eye because it had been long enough that one of them should have got back to her.

There was a few seconds of panic between her knock and the door opening. Just a flutter of a doubt as to whether Sammy would be there at all- or whether even Ben would be. Maybe they were at Sammy's after all, a notion she had discarded earlier based on his own disparaging remarks on the place awhile ago, not to mention not knowing if he'd even renewed his lease. She tried to squash the doubt quickly. That place didn't seem like a home anymore, if it ever really had, nor would it therefore serve any purpose after everything that had been said and done, and she was sure Ben wouldn't allow it for those precise reasons. But with that doubt came other more reasonable ones. Maybe they were at Emily's then- heck, if Troy had his way, she could imagine them all sleeping over in his living room where he could watch over all three of them. It wasn't that outlandish a thought, not after the last few months of escapades the trio had, both willingly and unwillingly, managed to get themselves into.

The thought gave her pause, her hand still raised towards the door before slowly falling to her side, a sad sinking feeling accompanying it. The notion that, up until a few nights ago, it had only been Ben and Emily they had worried about getting into trouble. Both of them were so ready and willing to fight tooth and nail for whatever they believed in. So ready to go off searching in the middle of the night for whatever information they needed, regardless of whether others told them it was safer not to.

Up until a few nights ago they would never have assumed that Sammy would have...

How had they not noticed...

But before the dark, swirling thoughts could really take hold, Ben was hesitantly opening the door and peeking through nervously at her, relaxing only marginally at the familiar sight.

She tried her best to give him a soft, understanding smile. The kind of expression and voice she used on her kids when they needed a little bit of a push to open up and she knew they were hiding something from her even if she didn't know exactly what. She wasn't sure she managed it entirely though, not when she knew the answer to her question already before it had even left her mouth now that she caught sight of him.

"Hi, Ben. Sammy here?"

Ben gulped, nodding ever so slightly at her raised eyebrow as he opened the door wider. "Mary, Hi. Long time no..." Apparently something in her expression stopped the small talk in it's tracks. "I mean- yeah, Sammy's here but- he's- we're not really- you know?"

The desperate edge to his tone made her heart break and solidified her resolve all at once.

This wasn't something they should be handling alone.

She gave him a sad smile, not quite a grimace but the familiar pain they were going through still there all the same. One that showed she did know and he relaxed further, both reminded of the simple truth- that it was Ben and Sammy themselves that had been playing this game for her, what felt like so long ago now. Forever knocking on her door and checking up on her when her world felt like it was collapsing out from under her. "I know. You know I do. So, are you going to let me in, Ben?"

"I..." There wasn't really an argument to be had, the look she gave him enough to make him back down instantly, his mouth snapping shut in defeat. "Sure. Of course. It's great to see you, Mary." He gave a smile full of awkward trepidation as he glanced over his shoulder, giving her enough clues as to which way to walk without further prompting as he continued to struggle with his words.

Which she did, much to his chagrin, side stepping around him and in without preamble, now that he'd opened the door for her.

"Hey, wait, Mary- can we just chat for a second? I'll get some coffee going and-"

"Sorry, no can do, Ben. I'm here to check up on that friend of yours and the pair of you haven't been answering your phones. So it's your own faults that I'm here unannounced."

Without another word she left him there in his hallway, spluttering out what she could only assume was the beginning half of at least a dozen different, and not completely planned out, excuses that never truly came to fruition before realising his mistake and quickly scurrying after her with another call of her name.

She didn't look back once through all his stuttering, didn't deign any of it with a response because it wasn't what she was there for. Ben wasn't the person she was there to see. Of course, she had also come to make sure he was alright, but that wasn't the crux of the matter, especially not now that she had given him a quick once over at the  door. She could calm him down though, she knew. She could ease his nerves, she could even try and keep things level headed. But if she was completely honest, she didn't know how she felt about all of this, hadn't actually planned this far ahead except for getting to see them both.

She didn't know how she would react when it all came down to it, when they could no longer hide from her behind closed doors and answer phone messages that stated they were safe if not completely unharmed. Even as she walked down the small hallway into a familiar living room, she still didn't truly know.

One look at Sammy was all it took.

She had been angry, lord knows she had. Not at him, never at him, but angry none the less at the hand they had all been dealt in this current moment.

But the way he stared up at her, wide eyed and nervous. He looked so young, a deer in headlights waiting to be chewed out as he sat, legs curled under himself, seeming impossibly small for such a tall man, on Ben's sofa. A kid who had done something particularly reckless and been caught out by a concerned adult and knew exactly where this conversation was headed- or at least so he thought. From the way Ben was hovering, this wasn't the first time he had reacted this way to a friend appearing on their doorstep, nor had all the reactions in return been pleasant. And she couldn't blame them, their friends, scolding him for whatever had or hadn't been going through his head on that terrible night that none of them would be able to forget in a hurry.

It would be so  _easy_  to fall on that feeling too. That anger born from fear that bubbled just beneath the surface, ready to come to the forefront. A parental folly. That moment when you saw the world shift dramatically off kilter and the would be, could be's flashed before your eyes, every worst case possible scenario rearing it's ugly head to loom behind closed eyelids and remind you that things could go so wrong so easily. And then once the fog of fear has cleared, the danger has passed and the world hadn't taken quite the painful lurch that had been envisioned, all that was ever left was the need to shake them, to ask them what they were thinking, what they were doing, and every other accusatory  _why_  under the sun- all to make them see.

An anger born from concern, from a deep-seated love. That yearning need for them to understand that they have to be careful, because you couldn't always protect them, wouldn't always be there for them. That even though there was that desperate hope that you would always be there in their hour of need- that life didn't always work that way and next time-  _next time_ -

Mary took a shuddering breath in, pushing the fear and the anger and all those flooding  _what if- what if- what if_ s down with it, as far as they would go.

Because she also knew deep down, that that explosive reaction wasn't going to help the situation, and that, really, it almost never did.

Especially when said person didn't need any additional grief and shame on their plate than they already seemed to have.

She took another few steps closer to him, watched his eyes widen further and his frame curl inwards ever so slightly more and her heart broke that he was ready and waiting for whatever she would throw at him. That she could already see him flinching if she let the emotion take over, that all he'd probably do in response was just close his eyes against the onslaught and accept what he deserved.

Only he didn't deserve it. Not now. Not ever.

He deserved so much more than he ever seemed to see.

"Look, Mary, I know it doesn't count for much but I really am sorry that-"

Mary didn't let him finish another apology. She was tired of how much he'd been apologising recently, and she could feel in the way his shoulders were set and the words dripped from his mouth that he'd said it more times than she even knew about to countless others. He didn't need to keep apologising, he just needed to forgive himself and find that spark again that had kept him with them for this long.

She hadn't realised she'd even been holding that exhale in, not until it puffed out of her in a shaking torrent that felt equal mixes of sheer relief and bitter remorse.

"Oh,  _Sammy_."

Her arms were around him before he could even finish stuttering out whatever he was sorry for. His words lodged in his throat, choked along with a sudden hitch of breath against her shoulder as her words permeated the room, a quiet, sad accepting tone in them. She curled around him, hugging him close to her, a shielding comfort blanket against whatever was thrown at him. He felt small even then, as he fell slightly again her in the shock of the moment, one of her kids who needed comforting, someone who desperately needed to be reassured that they were safe and that the world wasn't quite as daunting and scary as it seemed.

Or at least that if it  _was_ , then they weren't venturing into it all alone.

She wondered how long it had been since he'd allowed himself to really be comforted, that is before that night filled with shadows and rainbow lights when the matter had probably been taken out of his hands as soon as he'd been spotted at the auditorium. When the world had been so close to imploding around him, everything so close and so distant all at once, he'd probably found himself clinging back for dear life just to know that he was real, maybe not whole but  _alive_  all the same. But before that? He hadn't spoken to Ben, wouldn't let him in and she knew that out of all of them, as much as they all cared for him, he'd have been the most likely option for Sammy to go to in his hour of need. Which begged the thought that since Jack had gone he'd had no one, no support system. He'd never told anyone they were together which only meant that no one even knew to comfort him when his fiance vanished into thin air.

Well... one person perhaps. But she hadn't known how serious they had been and had herself just lost her brother. And grief did strange things to a mind, the stages coming in drips and drabs that never played the same from person to person. Placing undue guilt and blame on anything and anyone that it could be placed upon, fluttering anger simmering down to grim acceptance, though by that point sometimes the damage had already been done. Perhaps they'd never been that friendly before anyway, or perhaps they had. Either way, from that point on, Sammy had never told her that Jack had been his fiance, and had probably stewed under another layer of shame brought on that _if it wasn't for him then maybe she would still have her brother_ -

So one person had known. Kind of. Just enough- but Sammy would never put anymore burden on her.

And so that left him still completely and utterly alone in his grief and heartbreak, desperately trying not to get to the accepting stage like Lily had that Jack was never coming home. It had taken three years for him to get to that point, three years to truly let grief run it's course and leave him hollow and exhausted, his purpose in life, his one thread of hope suddenly thrown up before him and found wanting in painful crystalline clarity.

She didn't want to think about what would have happened if she'd gotten to that point. If she had accepted that Tim was never coming home.

And with her- everyone had known. Everyone had been willing to lend a hand, helpful and comforting when Tim had gone missing, and it was with that support that she had pulled through.  And she knew that simple fact as easily as she knew gravity existed, as simple and clear as the sun in the sky, no matter how much Ben told her otherwise and said it was her own doing, that had stood on her own two feet.

She could have laughed when he'd praised her like that.

She might be strong, but there was only so much strength one person could hold.

And leaning on a willing support was  _not_ a weakness.

She was also sure that Sammy had said the same about Ben in kind. Proudly gripped his arm and told him that Ben had got himself through all the pain and torment and come out the other side the man he needed to be. When in reality Ben would always say that Sammy kept him going through that time he needed him the most. An anchor in the storm that kept him from being dashed against the rocks, or cast adrift where he'd never find his way back again.

They'd both needed someone there, to stop them sinking into despair, to stop them from tearing themselves apart trying to find answers.

...So, who had Sammy had?

No one was the answer. Which was probably why even now she knew he was struggling to ask for the help that he so desperately needed.

But none of that mattered now. Not when Sammy didn't pull away. Not when she could feel where he tensed at first before going boneless in her arms, taking all the comfort she was willingly offering to him without question or argument.

The fact that he didn't push her away gave her hope that something had shifted, that some part of him had accepted they'd be helping him whatever happened, or better yet that he might even  _deserve_ the comfort they were giving him.

She could hope that, at the very least. And if he gave an inch in their direction then they were determined to take the mile on this one, of that she was sure of.

"I'm sorry."

The words came out, muffled and slightly garbled from somewhere between the sofa cushions and her shoulder but she heard them all the same. The defeated hitch that warbled through them, the accompanying slight tremor through his frame, made his shoulders hunch higher around his ears as if even now he waited for some kind of retribution from her.

"Shh, now." Mary rocked him gently, hand resting in his hair, running through it soothingly. She wanted nothing more than to tease him about where his man bun was today, lighthearted and amused to pop the atmosphere but knew better than to do so right at that moment. If only they  _could_ be jovial, sweep this all under the carpet and pretend none of it had ever happened. She could probably guess that given half a chance Sammy would take that offer, but it wasn't one any of them were happy to put down on the table. Not if it meant Sammy suffering alone any longer. "You stop that."

"But I am-"

"And I'm saying you've got nothing to be sorry for."

It was strange, Sammy wasn't that much younger than her, but right now, all she could think to do was wrap him up. Rock him ever so slightly and shush him whenever he tried to object or stuttered out a half apology once more, like he was one of her kids after a particularly bad nightmare.

Maybe she was hoping this had all just been a nightmare herself.

Either way she found herself running a hand through his hair, the other rubbing soothing circles into his back as they sat, a peaceful bubble of solace in amongst the chaos. The mantra of comfort as well as the motions slowly seemed to work, every objection getting fainter and fainter until his shoulders lost that hunch and he hugged back just as tightly, his last apology a burst of sound as if he said it quickly enough she'd have to accept it. She sighed exasperatedly and felt more than saw the small half smile against her shoulder, even if it was only for a moment before his arms tightened and the smile fell again.

It was something. At the very least, it was something.

She felt the sofa move when Ben joined them, sitting on the arm of the chair on the other side of Sammy. She glanced up, as if waiting for some comment from him but he only smiled sadly, gripping Sammy's shoulder tightly and taking over from from the patting on his back.

There was a brief lull of silence, a warmth directed at Sammy that he seemed to lap up even as he shook under all the attention.

When Sammy didn't pull back or make any move to acknowledge Ben being there, he spoke up, swallowing a few times before the words would come out in one go.

"What did I tell you, Sammy? No one's angry- OK, maybe some of them are, but they don't mean it. Not like how you think they mean it, anyway."

"It's only because we care." Mary muttered, voice a solid line of defence in both directions. Sammy didn't deserve any anger dealt his way right now, but they hadn't deserved to lose him either, and that had obviously manifested as anger in some of his friends. But she could be sure too, that the anger wasn't directed at him, at least not completely. "You- it scared us, Sammy. The thought of losing you."

Sammy gulped. "You mean,  _I_  scared you." A choked off, strangled laugh escaped him as if the emotion had to come out somehow and it was that or cry. "You've been through so much, and I scared you all."

"Sammy." The word was stern, a sharp edge to it that broached no arguments, and the closest she would get to raising her voice at him. "You are not to blame. You did what you thought you had to- and whilst that decision was- terrible at best. It's really not hard to see what led you there."

"But-"

" _But_." Mary smiled as he pulled back slightly, obviously ready to argue, those his mouth slammed shut, eyes doleful and confused as she continued to fuss over him. "Whatever it was that led you there and whether or not you scared us. It was the thought of losing you that scared us more. And I can assure you, mister-" She tapped him in the chest hard, conveying her conviction. "-That no one- absolutely  _no one_  that matters- is angry enough to stop caring about losing you. We're not leaving you behind, as much as you seem to want us to."

"Why?"

The word came out to sit between them, desperate and painful and so full of confusion that Mary wondered if her face mirrored the heart break on Ben's behind Sammy's back.

"Why what, Sammy?"

Sammy's eyebrows furrowed, sure she understood before huffing as it became obvious he had to say whatever it was, regardless. "Why- just why? After everything I did-"

"You mean looking after everyone when they needed you the most? Helping people who had gone through what you'd been through without a thought?"

Ben piped in them, a smug grin on his face. "You mean doing what you could to keep your friends safe even when they were absolute pains about it?"

" _No_." Sammy huffed again, looking more and more put upon and awkward by the moment. "Pushing you all away. Trying to make you all angry at me. The whole point was to-"

"Sammy. How often have you listened to Ben's advice over the course of the last few months?" Mary raised an eyebrow at him, trying not to laugh at the perplexity that coated his expression at the shift in gear.

"I- I mean, I think that's been pretty obvious." He scrubbed at his hair, glancing over his shoulder sheepishly. "I'd already made my decision and I didn't want anyone else getting hurt so- I needed Ben to stop, I didn't even think about his option being viable."

"Uh-huh. So-" Mary tapped him again to get his attention, eyebrow still raised in bemusement. "What on earth makes you think we were listening to a word of yours? You kept telling us you were leaving, that there was nothing we could do to stop you and the only answer I heard in response was 'Well, you shouldn't, city boy.' and 'like heck will we let you go that easy'."

"Yes, but-"

"If anything, _I'm_  sorry."

"I- what?" Sammy's expression had shifted close to panic again, the deer in headlights re-emerging to flutter at the edges as if he wanted to bolt. "You most definitely do not have anything to be sorry for, Mary."

"Oh, I think I do. All that time, I kept thinking 'this Sammy is so good at this, he knows exactly what to say and do before I even really know what I want'. I'd only just met you and you were tagging along with Ben as if you'd known us your whole life. And still the thought never crossed my mind that maybe the reason you were so good at all of that was because you had been there yourself." Mary's face dropped, apologetic and guilty as she smoothed his shirt once more. "We were all listening, all trying to help, but we weren't really hearing you, were we?"

She gulped, worried she'd overstep, but knowing it was needed as she caught his eye once more.

"And you know what that feels like too, don't you, Sammy?"

His mouth had been open as if to argue further, right up until that point. His eyes had widened once more, his breathing hitching as he stared at her-

And then his face crumpled, as if there had still been emotions he'd bottled up away from them and he couldn't contain them anymore.

"I tried-"

"Shh." Mary pulled him back in again, let the waterworks flow as he clung for dear life. "I know you did, sweetheart. I know. You did what you thought was best, just like we thought what we were doing was best when obviously it wasn't." She felt his disagreeing noise rumble through his chest. "Do you blame us?" The vehement shake gave her all she needed as she rocked him once more. "Then, I'm here to tell you, you can't blame yourself for back then either. Because if Jack's half the man you've made him out to be, he doesn't blame you either."

There was silence, other than Sammy's sobs, which grew louder at her words, as if the dam was breaking and there was nothing he could do to contain it.

From the way Ben looked on sympathetically, though without shock, this wasn't the first time, and nor would it be the last.

But that was OK, he needed to let it all out, he needed to get rid of all the hurt, even if it took awhile, to finally feel like he could move forward once more.

"Now, I know you might not believe us. But we'll get him back for you."

The pained noise that escaped him was all she needed to hear, words too much for him to get out.

"Alright, I might not know that. And there's no chance I'll ever know if we don't try. And you must believe that somewhere too, considering you did- try, in your own way." Her words stuttered and Sammy gripped tighter, another apology that she let him have. "But that's not what I meant. We had no way of knowing we'd get Tim back, or Emily- but we did it. We still tried. You've got to let us try."

"Ben got them back, you got them back- I didn't-"

"Then let us help you, Sammy."

"But if you get hurt-"

"Sammy, we want to help. Whatever happens won't be on you."

"It  _will_  be though-"

Mary sighed, a noise that cut off his arguments and made him curl up again. "Sammy, it's pretty darn obvious how much you care about everyone else and not yourself. But you need to get it through that darn skull of yours, that we care about you just as much." Her face softened as he gulped in response, tugging him away to look him in the eye again. "And Sammy? He'll need you here if we do manage it. You being on the other side of the void if we managed to get him, would be worse than us not getting him back at all."

Sammy shook his head, confusion once again present. "No. If- if there was even the slightest chance it would have let me take his place I would have."

"Sammy..."

Mary ignored Ben, gripping Sammy's hands in hers. "Sammy, getting them back isn't always the hardest part. It's keeping them with us after that, that takes a lot too. You don't just come back from that, completely fine, you need the people you love around you. And if you don't believe me, I'll let my Tim know and he'll be sure to be the next person knocking on your door, cause I can't even begin to fathom what it's been like for him, as much as I try."

"He'd have to fight with Emily for that spot. Cause if she found out you didn't realise that, Sammy... well, I feel like she'd happily give you a lecture on what could have happened if- a certain someone had got his way considering her memory loss."

It was like a light switched on behind Sammy's eyes, a dawning realisation that hadn't been there before. A new cause to keep going for. Even if he'd already realised he wasn't ready to leave, every new reason to stay with them felt like a monumental win, every additional purpose, another grounding effort to keep him from sinking back where they couldn't reach him.

"If..."

Ben joined in then, hand once again finding Sammy's shoulder. "No if's,  _when_  we get him back - you need to be here for him, Sammy."

Sammy gulped, the light dimming but still halfway there. "If we get him back."

If was better than no chance, and Mary gave Ben a steely eyed glare as he scrunched up his face, a sure sign to continue forcing the issue.

"If, or when. Maybe or not. Either way, in the meantime, I think he'd want you to keep going, Sammy. And I know that's going to be painful, and I know there'll be bad days, but we need you here with us. As selfish as that sounds, we need you. King Falls wouldn't be the same without you, and it most definitely wouldn't be better without you."

"Worse. It'd most definitely be worse without you."

Sammy huffed, still unbelieving and doubtful but smiling none the less. "I'm not sure on that, but I'm not ready to leave just yet." A breath left him in a wobbling gasp. "That was- far too close, before. I realised too late..."

"You realised and you're here. That's what matters. So let's keep it that way."

Ben opened his mouth as if asking for permission, before trying again. "What's that saying you like, Mary? Bad times are tough, but not tougher than me."

Mary hummed, nodding with him, though Sammy still seemed disbelieving. "Perhaps that saying needs a little bit of fine tuning, Ben." Her mouth twisted thoughtfully as both boys watched her patiently.

"How about- Bad times are tough, but not tougher than  _us_." She looked between them both expectantly. "Cause I know for a fact, that I needed people to get through what happened and I'm sure as the sun will rise tomorrow that you need people to get through this."

Ben's smile could have lit up the room. "I'll agree with that one."

Mary nodded, watching Sammy's face twist with doubts, though there was a smattering of hope in there somewhere that brought her back to their earlier disagreement. She prodded him again, putting on her best mother hen voice at the same time.

"So you best understand that we ain't leaving your ass anytime soon, mister. And you are letting us help you whether you like it or not."

There was an exasperated sigh that echoed through the room and only incensed her further.

"Mary-"

"No, I won't hear it. This isn't even about whether you stay in King Falls or not. This is about you being there for everyone of us when we needed you. Now... now you need to let us be there for you. You gotta let us repay the favour before it's too late."

Sammy winced at the phrasing, and her face softened ever so slightly.

"I know. I know. Kind of dropped the ball there, didn't we? But we got Tim back, and we got Emily back- and now? Now we got you back. So now it's your turn. Your turn to be looked after." Her gaze turned sharper, teasingly so but he still held her gaze with trepidation. "Now, do I have to ground you for that to sink in?"

"I mean, technically, you-"

"Don't 'technically' me, Sammy. I told Ben he should have called me to talk to you before all this went too far and now I'm wishing I had just come down without any prompting when I wanted to weeks ago. If I say you're grounded, you're grounded."

Sammy turned to Ben helplessly, who shrugged with a teasing grin, hands up defensively as he backed away from the sofa. "No way. I am  _not_  getting involved in this one."

"Traitor."

"Nah, if I could pull off being the Dad friend, I would have grounded you too."

There was a soft normality to the banter, a hint that things would get there in the future as Sammy seemed to come back to them.

"...I guess you  _are_  too short to pull that off."

"Watch it."

"Well?"

Sammy blinked, face turning back to Mary's with confusion, having been quite ready to start bickering good-naturedly with Ben for a while. "Well? Well, what?"

"Well, do I have to ground you for it to sink in that we're not going anywhere whether you like it or not?"

Sammy blinked at her for a few moments, his mouth opening and closing as if the words were too choked to come through. When they finally did, they were barely above a whisper. "No... No, I don't think you do."

"Then, will you repeat something, after me?" Mary sat up straight, gulping as she took his hand again and gave it a tight squeeze, a determined air to her as she made sure he was paying attention. He'd kept her strong, him and Ben. They had both been there for her in her worst moments and she'd desperately tried to do the same for Ben when Emily had gone. Now it was Sammy's turn, if he would let her. "Bad times are tough, but not tougher than us."

There was silence for a long moment. A second that seemed to drag on and on as Sammy blinked at her, as Ben watched on, ever hopeful and nervous to the side of them, his being burning behind her to the same tune her heart was beating in her chest as she waited for Sammy to react.

And then Sammy smiled. It was a watery smile, a soft, sad smile that wasn't what she wanted from him but knew was all he could manage at that moment. It would take time, things didn't just get better over night, especially not everything that he had been through.

He let out a whistling breath, a warble of a note as he considered her words.

"Bad times are tough... but not tougher than us."

But a start was still a start.

She'd just have to make sure he kept repeating it until he believed it.

And hopefully, soon enough, he'd see just how strong he was.

Until he could finally say  _bad times are tough, but not tougher than me_.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I love the 'Bad times are tough but not tougher than me' saying. But I also know that on some days your brain just won't believe the words, no matter what. Maybe not for Ben- but I think so for Sammy. I think Sammy would believe that Ben is stronger than his bad times- but himself?  
> And sometimes everything can be so overwhelming that it's not strange to have that thought process. But with friends? Those bad times can be a lot easier, as long as you let them in. I know mine got me through last year. So yeah, I tweaked it, and I hope people don't mind.


End file.
